Tag Archives: WPC

After learning about this week’s photo challenge, my first thought was that it will be impossible for me to select onefavorite place. There were too many great candidates for that title. Victoria Falls? The pyramids in Giza? The many great wildlife spots in Africa? The ancient treasures in Italy or Greece? My childhood lake in Finland? The Old Town in Stockholm? The list was long. But thinking about it I always came back to a place I can see every day right through my office window. The salt marsh at the north end of our barrier island. It’s always there. At sunrise and sunset. Rain or shine. Its mood constantly changing.

And Dylan agrees with my choice. Whenever I say let’s go to the park, it’s clear from the speed of his tail that I’m on the right track. He loves to play at the dog park next to the marsh with his amigos, Saki, Eli, Snickers and others.

So here we are, on ‘hatch watch’. From what we have been able to glean looking at the osprey nest from our terrace, the osprey couple now has hatchlings. While Mama Sandy is not yet allowing her chicks to be shown in public, her moves in the nest reveal that she is in the ‘mothering mode’. Sorry for the poor picture quality as these two images were taken handheld from almost 300 yards on my compact superzoom camera.

Sandy gets up often and bends her head down into the nest cup. And after Papa Stanley has brought in a fish, her head stays down for several minutes. She moves around as in feeding more than one chick.

Last night around sunset time, when we passed the nest and Stanley had just left to get dinner, she even stood up in the nest to preen herself. A sure sign that the eggs have hatched this week.

The nest cup is so deep that it will probably take a week or two before I can get ‘proof’ of the newly hatched chicks in the form of a grainy picture from my terrace. And a couple of more weeks before I can get the first baby portraits from the ground. Patience girl. Patience.

Papa Stanley is guarding the nest whenever he is not on a fishing trip. Yesterday, again, there was another osprey flying around the nest.

Stanley sounded alarm and when that was not effective, he promptly went to chase it away.

When we passed under the nest a few minutes later, he was back on his guard post and nodded a friendly greeting.

I’m sure he had noticed that both the Mayor and the younger Great Blue Heron were present close to the nest. Staring at each other from the opposite sides of the deep water.

The Mayor’s presence was a good thing. It was less likely that the younger GBH would get bad ideas. Like considering attacking the osprey nest. He may remember that any attempt to approach the nest will not be tolerated. He would get his butt feathers ruffled by Stanley.

Mama Sandy was alert too. Maybe she remembered her dramatic encounter with the youngster a couple of years ago (below). Despite the difference in size, she did give the young heron a lesson.

But there was one fellow who only had time for himself … and the camera. As soon as the Reddish Egret, aka the Clown, saw my camera, he started his usual hunting dance.

I always enjoy watching his performance, but this time he didn’t catch a fish. Someone else did. A young Great Egret walked around at the far end of the marsh showcasing his catch.

He kept an eye on us so we didn’t dare to move closer. Instead we spotted a Tri-colored Heron hunting for crustaceans in the shallow water.

I was wondering if it was the same bird now being exhibited at the Florida Museum of Photographic Arts (below). Whatever the case, I am happy that one of the salt marsh residents made it to the “Forever Young” exhibition.

Just before leaving the park, we discovered something you can only see at the salt marsh. A bird reading a sign.

The Great Egret was wet. He looked relieved to see the no swimming sign pictured a human rather than a bird. He had already been swimming.

We all wish you a pleasant weekend and a great week ahead. Thank you for visiting our favorite place.

On Friday morning Dylan and I went for a walk around the salt marsh. Since I’ve been keeping an eye on the osprey nest from my terrace, I already knew that Mama Sandy and Papa Stanley were still incubating. And provided that everything goes well, we should have hatchlings in about 7-14 days.

On our front lawn, we were met by a puffed up Mourning Dove. It had been chilly, according to Florida standards of course, in the last few days. And the sun had not yet warmed up the grass.

On arrival, we spotted lots of white everywhere around the marsh. Several families of Great Egrets, a few Snowy Egrets and White Ibis were having breakfast under the watchful eye of the Mayor. The older Great Blue Heron had parked himself at the far end of the marsh to ensure an adequate overview of what was going on around the breakfast buffet.

Some Great Egrets were fishing, seemingly not with much success despite valiant efforts …

…while others demonstrated a double catch.

A few were still flying in …

…some were chasing each other…

…and yet others were flying around just for the fun of it.

Some had found their own perfect spot in the sun to air their beautiful breeding plumage. Like this Great Egret who had decided to rent the Mayor’s office…

…and this Snowy Egret, who had found a private sunny spot close to the osprey nest.

Suddenly we heard a familiar sound. A high-pitched warning call. And not only by one osprey, but two. Papa Stanley was eating his breakfast at a lamp-post just outside the marsh. He stopped eating and sounded repeated warning calls…

…while Mama Sandy sounded the alarm from the nest where she was sitting on the eggs. It took me a while to localize the threat in the sky. It was another, to me unknown, Osprey. He flew towards the nest and peered down right on Sandy.

Despite the duet of warning calls, the newcomer circled several times around the nest and finally Sandy couldn’t take it anymore. She got up, left the eggs and flew towards the forest after the intruder. I have never seen her do such a daring maneuver while incubating.

I lost sight of her for a minute or two, but then she landed back in the nest. Phew. As you can see, she was very careful not to hit the nest cup in the middle of the nest. Her talons were drawn in and her eyes were trained on the eggs.

She had been successful in chasing away the intruder, but stood up for a while checking he was really gone.

Peace returned to the salt marsh. A Belted Kingfisher landed on a branch in the middle of the marsh…

…Stanley went back to eating his fish…

…and Sandy went back to incubating.

I was glad there was a happy ending to this story, and can’t wait to see a hatchling, two or three soon. Dylan, I and the lively salt marsh gang wish you all a wonderful week ahead.

We have finally gotten some rain. Refreshing soft rain has nourished the salt marsh and the whole island for many days now. Luckily it has taken frequent breaks at sunset time enabling Dylan to take me on walks late in the day. And we have walked on the bay side. By design.

You see, I wanted to see how little Arlene and her parents are doing. And the best chance to spot her has been late in the evening on Marriott’s roof. She has been perching on the top roof. And Mama Sandy on the lower roof.

And you can see from the markings on the wall that she has been eating regularly 🙂 Sometimes Arlene has been sleeping with Sandy perching right next to her, like last Sunday night. Arlene was wet. And that means she might have been practicing diving already, emulating her parents.

Papa Stanley has been camping at a distance where he can both see and hear her, either at the sailing center or, late at night, on a nearby lamp-post.

This is a highly unusual setup. Young Arlene seems to fly a lot during the day. A couple of times I’ve seen her whoosh right by my office window. Then in the evening she returns to “her” spot on the roof for supper. And her parents have adapted. Normally only either Sandy or Stanley stays nearby and feeds the chick after it has fledged, but Arlene has changed their routine. Both parents are engaged in her fishing lessons, which seem to have started much earlier than for other chicks in past years. You go girl!

On our blue hour walks we have seen other friends as well, like this Yellow-crowned Night Heron on the sea wall.

And both the Mayor and the young Great Blue Heron have delighted us with their presence late in the evening.

And the other night Dylan spotted some friends practicing paddle boarding on the calm bay. Luckily he didn’t ask to be enrolled in that school.

I hope Arlene’s fishing lessons will last a little longer so that we can still find her when I return from a short work trip to the nation’s capital later this week.

Thank you for visiting. Best wishes for a beautiful rest of the week from all of us on the bay side.

Hi! This is me, Dylan. I’m borrowing mom’s laptop. She is cooking in the kitchen and this is my chance to tell you about my recent adventures. But I have to be brief. I’ll need to go and help mom soon. You see, we have a well-developed division of labor. I have the floor level duty and mom has the stove level duty when we’re cooking together. That usually works very well. Provided she gives me enough to do. Oh, were was I?

Okay, I’ll get to the point. We have gone to the dog park a lot, usually in the evenings around sunset time. I get to meet my friends and mom hers. The latter includes both humans and the birds at the salt marsh. It’s been very hot lately and that is a slight problem. Lots of hanging around the water cooler. And that translates into late night bathroom breaks. Not particularly popular if mom has already changed to her pajamas. You see, I love running around with my friends and I get thirsty. We all do, all the time. Like Eli and Bently here.

I have to admit the water cooler gossip is always interesting. No, I’m not going into details. What happens at the dog park stays at the dog park. But I can tell you that we compare notes. And we share secrets. Like fail-safe tactics to establish a satisfactory treat schedule, how to train your human, and other important stuff like that.

Or how to stay at the park until dark. A skill perfected by my friend Saki.

And we speculate quite a bit. Particularly about our parents’ trips. What they might be doing when they leave us for a day or two. Sometimes we can smell that they have seen other dogs, but most often these trips seem to be fairly innocent. Although they are not fun. Not for us.

After running around at the dog park, I let mom run around in the park too. That usually means walking around the marsh. And making frequent stops.

Oh, there’s a bird, she would say. What that actually means is ‘sit’. And I usually do.

Although it gets a bit tough when there’s a duck couple swimming close to the shore. I could easily go fetch them. For better close-ups, of course.

We always end up at the Osprey nest. And if feeding is going on, we’ll stay there for quite a while. What about my after-walk-snack?

And just when I think we’ll be heading for the bay side, mom discovers another bird. Oh, Miss Rosa is sleeping, she says, come, we need to get a picture. We? I don’t get it, we have already seen this pink bird one time too many.

When we finally get to the bay side, there can be some surprises. Like when I discovered that daddy Osprey, whom I’d just seen at the nest, was suddenly sleeping at the sailing center. How did he get there faster than I can run? That’s a real mystery.

But I actually like sitting on the seawall watching the pelicans. They sit, swim and fly. And then they sit again. What a circus.

And sometimes we see other birds as well. They are looking for supper just before the restaurant is set to close. Hello, the sun is going down!

Or they decide to fly away when they see me at the seawall. And then we’ll finally go home.

Oh, I almost forgot! Mom told me the other day that I get to do the lottery again. The Osprey chick deserves a beautiful name. But you have to help me. You need to propose names for the Osprey girl – an evanescent opportunity to have an Osprey named by you flying the skies for years to come.

Once we have your proposals, mom will write the names on small pieces of paper, wrap them around my biscuits and put them all in a hat. And I get to pick the winner! Yummy! The winner can choose to get mom’s first photo book from 2015…

…OR a beach towel of their choosing from mom’s art shop. I can tell you they are really soft. I’m not supposed to know, but I tried one the other day. I had wet paws after coming in from the rain. What’s a dog to do but dry his paws in a soft towel?

I hope you’ll come up with a great name proposal (one please) and include it in your comments. I’ll get my special biscuit next Wednesday, May 31. As you may have guessed, I’m hoping to eat all of them, eventually. I’m ready for this task of great importance.

We have gorgeous fall weather here on Florida’s Gulf coast. I want to invite you all to join me on a morning walk on the beach, in the park and at the salt marsh.

Being “evergreen” we do not have the typical fall foliage, but there is plenty of color for us to enjoy right here in our garden.

And the beach is lively with shorebirds, particularly Sanderlings and Willets, in addition to the usual gulls and terns.

From the beach we walk to the fishing piers at north end of the park. Sun is shining on the bay and the Clearwater Pass.

People are fishing and birds are flying over the water.

We spot two familiar birds: the “other osprey” who was pestering Mama Sandy last week, and Henry, the younger Great Blue Heron.

For some reason, Henry is not at the salt marsh, but has flown into a kayak enclosure next to the fishing piers. Perhaps hoping for a free meal from one of the fishermen.

From there we walk south through the park to the salt marsh. And spot more fall colors on the way.

Arriving at the marsh, we immediately notice the visitors. A family of eight Wood Storks mingle with Great and Snowy Egrets.

The Great Egret wants to show the visitors who’s the boss, and some loud exchanges follow. But where is the real boss, the Mayor? We walk towards the osprey nest and find him hiding in the bushes right below the osprey nest.

It seems he doesn’t want to get involved in any squabbles, but rather prefers to take some quiet time to enjoy the morning. And the same goes for Mama Sandy. She has just caught a fish and turns to greet us before starting her breakfast.

Then we spot the showman. The Reddish Egret performs his hunting dance. The clown of the marsh, as I dubbed him two years ago, draws his energy from a large audience. And today is no exception.

But the smaller herons, apart from the Snowy Egrets, have decided to stay away from the ‘big boys’.

Walking home, we find one of them, the Little Blue Heron, hunting alone on the bay. The low tide has revealed new and interesting fishing grounds.

I hope you enjoyed this three mile walk in the crisp autumn air – a rare treat for us this early in the season.

At home another treat is waiting. The Audubon Society has received a grant from Duke Energy, our power company. Yay! Thank you to all who have contributed! We are now much closer to having the new dish platform for the Osprey couple installed on time. We all wish you a wonderful week.

To me, local is not only places and people around us. It is also animals around us. And many of you will know I am talking about the salt marsh and its residents. That’s where my heart is. But I have to confess I have not been able to visit my friends for a while. Severe interference by something I call work.

When I finally got time to visit, I found myself right in the middle of a significant alarm event.

Mama Sandy was vigorously defending her run-down nest against another osprey couple. Soon Papa Stanley appeared on the scene to support her. He chased the other male out of the marsh.

But the female was a tough cookie. She continued to circle above the marsh. She was looking right down on Sandy and made a couple of dives towards the nest. Tension was mounting.

A light blue juvenile Little Blue Heron in the bushes right below the nest looked frightened. She stayed putt in her hiding place to wait out the storm.

And the Yellow-crowned Night Heron who had been nodding off in a tree nearby woke up to follow the drama.

Mama Sandy did not take this provokation lying down. I have never seen her screaming from the bottom of her lungs like this. She sounded like she meant it. And that did it. The female osprey finally followed her hubby and flew towards the north end of the park.

Phew. Peace was restored and everybody was minding their own business again. Like this White Ibis, who was just chilling. Quite beautiful, I thought.

And an adult Little Blue Heron, perhaps the juvenile’s mom, continued her search for that perfect bite.

But the Snowy Egret had already spotted her favorite menu item. She flew across the pond…

…and performed daring acrobatics to fetch her brunch. I was impressed by her reach.

I walked around the marsh and spotted another Snowy Egret hunting. She was working hard for her tiny morsels.

At the far end of the marsh a Tri-colored Heron was busy hunting. Everything was back to normal.

As I walked home I spotted the juvenile Red-shouldered Hawk again. She was soaring high in the sky and I felt like doing the same. Just to float above it all.

Our fundraising drive for a new home for the osprey family continues…and I hope we have good news shortly. In the meantime I will try my best to catch up on news in your world.

I found what I was in search for. I know, it’s a spoiler. But I couldn’t possibly be sitting here at mom’s laptop writing to you if I was still pursuing my quest, could I ? Truth to be told, mom picked me up from my foster home on Friday, April 1. Almost six months ago now. But I can assure you I’m not an April Fools’ Day joke. I’m a survivor.

You see, I was abandoned by my first family. I lived on the streets. And it was hard. Although I became good at sniffing for food people had thrown on the ground, I was always hungry. I could smell a half eaten chicken leg or a piece of hamburger bread from 50 yards, but such treasures were few and far between. I lost a lot of weight. It was not obvious because my hair grew so long. If anything I looked fat. No hair cuts, no baths and no love do that to you. But it was even worse with water. Fresh water is something you take for granted when you have a home. I learned the hard way that it doesn’t rain in the spring in Florida. Finding even a small pool of dirty water was a challenge. I learned to get by with very little of it, mostly licking the trickles that reached the street when people watered their lawns. Recycled water. Not too good for you.

I can’t tell you how long I lived on the streets. I lost count of the days. And the long nights. I hardly slept because it was not safe. I had to stay alert. So I slept only for a few moments here and there when I collapsed of exhaustion.

And I was looking for my family all the time. My mission was keeping me alive. I ran towards young couples pushing baby strollers. If they let me close, I would gently sniff at the baby’s toes. But it was always some other baby. I couldn’t find my family. I had always believed I was part of the family. Obviously I was wrong. They were gone and had left me behind. I had no idea what I had done to deserve this, but there I was. Homeless. I was so sad.

Then one day a car stopped next to me. It was not the car I used to ride in and hang out from the back window my ears flapping in the wind. Not my car. And I had learned to avoid cars. But the man was friendly so I finally agreed to ride with him. A milestone. My new journey had started. Hospital stay. Food. Water. Love. Florida Poodle Rescue. A foster family – and more love. I was grateful to have a home, but still grieving the loss of my family, if that makes sense.

About a week later, mom knocked on the door. She came with a friend…to visit me! I knew right away she was my mom. That’s called intuition. I jumped onto her lap. I’m not sure if I even thanked my foster family well enough for all the love they gave me, I was so eager to go with mom. And like magic ~ I found myself in her car. I remember sitting in the back seat with her kind friend. Mom kept telling me we would go home to dad. It took a couple of hours, but she was right. I’m home now.

I’m always with mom in her office when she works. Or blogs. I can make my bed of the old blanket on the sofa, redesigning it until I’m comfortable. Sometimes I just chill on the floor next to her desk.

I’m an avid reader, and sometimes mom lets me browse other blogs too. Nothing short of amazing. So much interesting stuff!

But I’ll tell you what I love the most. Going for long walks! The faster we walk, the better. But running is the best, of course. You see, I’m mom’s personal trainer. And I take my work seriously. She really needs her exercise. At least three miles a day. Sometimes even four or five, if I can trick her.

And she’d better take her work seriously too. I appreciate my rewards, ever so small. Be it a couple of baby carrots or a piece of my favorite cookie. Even a tooth cleaning treat will do. Mom, give it to me already!

I have developed many new tricks to test on mom and dad. Some of them work, some don’t. I’ve noticed a few more tricks work on dad. But that’s another story. See you later. Be good now.

With love, Dylan (or maybe I should say Bob Dylan, but that’s also another story)